


Touching Him

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [50]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, Touch Phobia, touch starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 08:58:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4215642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas knows Sam doesn't like to be touched, but, for some reason, it's different between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touching Him

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone--  
> Another short fic from Tumblr.  
> Warnings: pre-slash, touch phobia, touch starvation.  
> Enjoy!

They’re in a diner when Cas first notices.

Dean didn’t show up for breakfast, sent Sam a text that  _Carla_  seemed more than willing to keep him a while longer and he was inclined to stay. Sam had rolled his eyes but nodded at the phone, and told Cas that they were on their own for breakfast.

More precisely, he told Cas he would go out and eat and be back, but Cas doesn’t want Sam to have to eat alone, so he goes along to the ratty little diner down the street from the motel.

Her name is Lydia, according to her name tag, and she seems to really like Sam.

Sam seems to be less interested. He’s polite–he’s always polite, Cas muses–but he doesn’t seem to want to talk to her much.

It comes to a head when she reaches for his shoulder when she hands him the check.

He flinches away in a very obvious way, making her recoil in turn and leave the table with a muttered “sorry." 

Sam mutters the same word in turn and stares resolutely at his plate. He eventually reaches for his wallet and tosses some cash onto the check–more than enough to pay for a bowl of oatmeal and two coffees–and bolts from the restaurant, Cas hot on his heels.

"Sam…” he begins.

Sam keeps walking. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m fine.”

“Those statements seem contradictory,” Cas points out. “Either you are fine so you do not  _need_  to discuss it, or you are not fine but are unwilling to discuss it.”

Sam’s shoulders hunch. “Just…drop it, please?”

“If you wish,” Cas agrees reluctantly. “But I will listen.”

“Nothing to listen to,” Sam says, and that’s the end of it, for a while.

Cas becomes careful of approaching Sam. He blocks others access to Sam where he can, giving Sam the space he seems to need. He worries. Sam seems to do fine.

One night they end up watching a movie together, alone on the Bunker’s couch, and Cas’ shoulder accidentally brushes Sam’s. He pulls back immediately.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Sam says quietly. “It doesn’t bother me.”

“How does it not bother you?” Cas asks.

Sam shrugs. “I know…you don’t want anything. Nothing that I don’t want to give, at least. You don’t…expect anything.”

“Nothing,” Cas repeats, thinking of all the things he  _wants–_ things he doesn’t fully understand, things he doesn’t grasp entirely yet but still intrinsically knows–but doesn’t expect. If it comes, then it is a gift. It is not something he will push for, that he believes he automatically deserves, that he would demand of Sam or even truly ask of him.

“May I?” he asks, nodding his head to Sam’s shoulder.

Sam only hesitates a moment. “Sure.”

Cas, gently, slowly, carefully, leans his head against Sam’s shoulder, watching the rest of the movie from that vantage point.

Five minutes later. Sam’s hand comes up, heavy and warm and reassuring against his spine, and Cas thinks, maybe this, whatever it is, isn’t so hopeless after all.


End file.
